Language Lessons
by Cerulean Pen
Summary: When Frankie lets a certain four-letter-word slip in front of Mac, she must teach him the consequences of swear words. And, of course, she has a little help from her friends.


Language Lessons

Summary: When Frankie lets a certain four-letter-word slip in front of Mac, she must teach him the consequences of swear words. And, of course, she has a little help from her friends.

English Humor/Friendship Rated: T Chapters:1 Words: Frankie & Mac

**a/n: **Came when I ever-so-gracefully banged my hip on the banister, and let a few four-letter-words fly in front of my cousin. For some reason, I could so see Frankie in my place, stubbing her toe, and Mac hearing her and repeating it. I mean, he's only eight, and kind of naïve (but we love him anyway!) and Frankie would have to awkwardly explain why you shouldn't use them. Okay, regards to Dude13, the best author here, and cheers to my fellow Foster fans.

Frances "Frankie" Foster had seen plenty of shockers in her life. Mind you, she worked in a Foster's Homer For Imaginary Friends, and spent her days cleaning and cooking for the creatures. She had seen the bizarre, the insane, the unfeasibly complicated messes Bloo could get everyone at Foster's roped into. Yes, Frankie had experienced many jaw-slacking moments in her life.

And this was _definitely _one of them.

It had been such a pleasant morning, with the golden summer sun beaming at Frankie through the kitchen windows, casting shafts of light on the hundreds of cereal bowls she was spreading across the counters. She hummed while she poured economy-sized boxes of Coco Fluffs into the plastic bowls, in an unusually jovial mood. Carrying the first few out into the enormous dining hall, she realized the residents shared her joyfulness, chatting with one another and everything peaceful.

Frankie brought the last round of cereal to the right end of the table, where Bloo, Coco, Wilt, and Eduardo sat, as well as Bloo's creator. "Hey Mac," she mused, setting a bowl in front of him. He smiled up at her through a lock of chestnut-brown hair.

"Wow Frankie, you're in a great mood this morning," Mac remarked, and Bloo rolled his eyes. Frankie blissfully ignored Bloo, grasping the handles of her tray and lifting it to her chest.

"Oh, it's just a gorgeous day," Frankie sighed contentedly, whistling as she started for the kitchen, pausing when she heard something crash to the floor. But the clatter was not what made Frankie drop the tray in unison to the bang. It was the word the eight-year-old, pajama-clad boy murmured as he slid out of his chair to clean up the spilt cereal.

Frankie's perfect morning shattered before her eyes, a half second after the four-letter-word left Mac's mouth. The juice Bloo had been drinking was sprayed across the table, the drink dripping from his gaping mouth. Wilt's spoon fell to his bowl with a sharp _clink! _Coco choked hard on her cereal, spitting some back into her dishware. Eduardo gasped, a hoof to his mouth.

After the five composed themselves after their outbursts, they all turned their heads to Mac, who was on his knees, attempting to scoop the cereal back into his now cracked bowl. He crooked his head in a puzzled manor, and Frankie knelt down.

"Mac," she began, still recovering from the shocking blow, "where in the world did you hear that word?"

As he tried to recall the memory, Frankie narrowed her eyes at the four friends at the table, as if she could read their minds and prove them guilty. She glared first at Bloo, who held his hands up and innocence and mouthed _"it wasn't me!" _Wilt shook his head, Coco only squinted in response, and Eduardo whispered something incomprehensible in Spanish. Frankie was positive it was Bloo, who's mouth was still wide open at his best friend's "choice of words." _Seriously, it wasn't me!" _he uttered quietly.

"Hmm…" Frankie turned her attention back to Mac, who had a finger on his chin. "Where _did _I hear that word?"

"Was it one of the imaginary friends? A kid at school? Terrence?" Frankie prompted, frantic to find out who taught the ingenuous child such a terrible swear word. After a few moments of thought, he shook his head, and Frankie was quickly running out of options.

"Madame Foster?" Frankie suggested frenetically.

Bloo snorted. "Five bucks says it _was _Madame Foster," he muttered to Wilt. They launched into a subdued argument about Bloo's betting, bickering on and momentarily forgetting about the reason they were quarreling.

"Closer…" he mumbled, "you're getting closer." Frankie blinked, looking down at him, hit with the awareness like a bag of cement. _Closer? Madame Foster? He couldn't mean Mr. Herriman, so the only one closer to Madame Foster that said it was-_

_"Me?"_ Frankie asked incredulously, and Mac perked up, nodding. _Oh my God, _Frankie screamed in her mind, freaking out internally at letting one of the forbidden words slip. Bloo and Wilt's dispute ceased as soon as Frankie squeaked the syllable, flabbergasted by now. This breakfast was turning out to be very entertaining. Frankie had always tried to keep those four-letter-words hidden, concealed from others, and now she had so carelessly let one slip. But when?

Bloo finally spoke up. "When did she say it? I don't remember her saying-" Frankie's death stare prevented the same word from escaping between his teeth, so Bloo rephrased the statement, "an inappropriate word."

"Oh, everyone else was asleep," Mac answered, and Frankie buried her face in her hands. "This is what happened."

_Mac awoke to a low rumbling sound that made it seem like a train was about to barrel through the bedroom, but when he turned over, he found it was Bloo snoring. How in God's name could a three foot blue friend produce such a deafening sound? According to the bright red numbers blaring back at him from the digital clock, it was two a.m. He was incredibly thirsty, but didn't know if he should risk the dark, creaking corridor to the bathroom for a drink._

Die of thirst, or go down the hallway…_Mac contemplated his options for several minutes, staring up at the sagging mattress above him, which contained a soundless Eduardo. Coco occasionally drew in a wheezing breath, or rolled onto some straw, and Wilt's soft breaths came in even inhalations. Bloo, on the other hand, began to murmur in his sleep. "Don't worry, I'll save you! Awesomeness to the rescue!"_

Bloo's even egotistical in his sleep. _He laughed quietly, and decided on the latter of his weighty options, rolling out of bed and inaudibly open the door, glancing both ways down the corridor. Nothing, not even the snoring of another friend, or the creak of an old mattress. Mac slowly made his way down the hallway, reaching the bathroom. _

CCRREEAKK!

_"Aah!" he exclaimed, jumping backwards and nearly getting tangled in the shower curtain. The noise didn't repeat itself, so Mac merely laughed weakly at his reaction, poured himself a glass of water from the tap, and ventured back into the hallway with fresh caution. He heard someone mumbling near the very end, which was lost from his sight in void darkness. "H-h-hello?"_

_WHAM!_

_With a noise that nearly sent him shooting through the ceiling, Mac could now plainly see the gangly shadow of Frankie, hopping up and down, holding onto one foot and leaping on the other. Mac listened to what Frankie was muttering, trying to place it…shoot? No, not shoot…Frankie began to say it slower, rubbing the foot she had banged on a foyer table._

_Wow, what a neat word._

_He would have to try it out sometime._

"And that's what happened," Mac concluded.

Silence reigned for a few long minutes, with Frankie mentally punching herself for yelling _that _one out for the whole world to hear. Finally, Bloo broke the quiet by turning to Mac. "I don't really snore that loud!"

Frankie groaned, slapping a hand to her forehead. This was going to be tough to get around. She had gotten by with lies about other things before (let's not travel down that road again), but he deserved to know what he did wrong, especially in case he ever wanted to "try out" a word like that. Thankfully, she knew just the imaginary friends to help her.

:::::

"Okay Mac, do you remember that time Bloo was playing video games?" Frankie started. She was sitting adjacent to him on the couch in the den, with Bloo sitting on the floor, working a joystick like his life depended on it. Wilt stood behind the sofa, while Eduardo and Coco sat on the opposite side of Frankie. Mac caught eye of Bloo, who had his eyes glued on the screen, muttering underneath his breath.

"Um, yeah."

"Well, remember when Bloo was trying to play one of the restricted games, 'Total World Conquest'? You know, with the ghosts killing his character over and over," Frankie detailed, and he shivered at the gruesome memory of the graphic violence. "And can you recall that word he yelled when his character lost all of his lives, and the game ended?"

"It was…the same word I said at breakfast," Mac recognized, looking back once more at Bloo. He nearly ripped the joystick off of its base fighting what seemed to be zombies, panting and crazed to complete the level of his game.

"Exactly! You see, people say swear words when they're angry, or when they're scared, or, in my case, when they get hurt. But cursing doesn't make us feel better and be brave. In fact, they're pretty bad, because they can hurt someone's feelings. I know you didn't have a clue what it meant, so it isn't your fault completely."

"Frankie's right," Wilt spoke, "they don't have an effect on anyone. That's a lesson Bloo had to figure out a few times." He pointed a long red skinny finger at the little cerulean blob. "I'm sorry, but he's had to have his mouth washed out with soap at least ten times! That's just what comes out of saying them."

"Okay, so I know it's wrong to say that word, or any other swear word, but what does it mean?" Mac implored, looking up at a very embarrassed Frankie. All because she had neglected to turn on the light before going down the hallway! She thought she would quench his curiosity just by admonishing, but Mac was persistent.

"Well, let's just say it's the most unpleasant thing you can think of," Frankie fibbed, holding her breath and crossing her fingers. He had to fall for that, he may be smart, but he is really, really, really gullible.

"Oh, something like Bloo's snoring?"

Frankie's lungs deflated, and she fell back on the couch, allayed by his response. "Just like Bloo snoring," she said with a smile, and they went back to watching Bloo play his video game, with him biting down on his tongue the entire time. Right when he was about to murder his final zombie, a whole throng of the undead tackled his character to the ground, and "GAME OVER" flashed onscreen in fluorescent red letters.

A forbidden word passed his lips.

They were plunged into alarm, and Bloo understood his mistake a second too late. He dropped the joystick, smirked at Frankie, and took off with a plume of smoke on his trail. Mac was baffled, and glanced up at the care-taker, whose face was turning the same fiery color as her ponytail. "Frankie…what did he-"

**"BLLOOOOOOO!"**


End file.
